Wolf On The Fold
by Manchester
Summary: About to die of old age and with nothing to lose, Xander utters the w-word and winds up as Batman's latest protégé. This Scooby definitely should've remembered some wish demons might be DCverse fans, too, along with having a really wicked sense of humor.
1. Chapter 1

Just a mere second after hearing those chilling words "Wish granted!" echo through the hospital room, Xander Harris staggered under the sensory overload bombarding his mind. In between how his new body seemed to be in perfect health (unlike his previous enfeebled carcass) and how all of his senses were working at their highest levels, this former Sunnydale resident barely paid attention to the vicious struggle taking place a few yards away at the far edge of a Gotham warehouse's roof.

The ensuing eruption of mocking laughter coming from the Joker as this homicidal maniac leered down at a stunned foe now sprawled out in perfect helplessness on the roof's asphalt shingles swiftly brought Xander back from his justified daze. An appalled Xander then saw how the Joker happily tucked away inside a purple jacket his joy-buzzer gag ring which a moment ago had nearly electrocuted Batman. From this same inner suit pocket, an oversized Warner Brothers cartoon-style pistol was produced, and aimed directly at Batman's cowled head by a gleeful villain about to kill this pestiferous hero for once and all.

Acting solely by instinct, Xander surged up onto his feet from where he'd also been lying on the roof and raced forward. However, a few steps later, his feet got tangled together and Xander lost control of his body, tripping to begin a disorderly tumble which resulted in him slamming hard against the Joker's lower legs.

Taken by complete surprise, the Joker stumbled backwards…and then stepped off the fourth-floor roof.

With a disbelieving shriek very different from his usual sadistic hilarity, a flailing Joker plunged downwards and out of sight from the remaining pair left behind on the roof. Shakily getting up, Batman rushed over to where he could stare down at something he thought would never be possible.

On the warehouse's rear loading dock, the ruined body of the Joker showed this evildoer to be wholly extinct of life. Unlike all too many other times, there was no way for him to survive what'd just happened to someone who'd repeatedly terrorized the entire city of Gotham. Not when a despairing grimace was the sole remainder of a green-haired head which resembled a shattered watermelon, down to the red stuff inside sprayed everywhere.

A numb Batman glanced over at where Ace had just joined the man at the roof edge. This vigilante blinked, and then firmly shook his head to drive away the bizarre thought which had just popped inside his brain, at seeing how the dog somehow sensed Bruce's gaze to look up and produce what seemed to be nothing else but an…_apologetic_ grin.

Taking a steadying breath, Batman cast one more look at where the Joker rested (hopefully already on his way to the deepest level of hell), before turning away and striding towards the trapdoor leading to the building stairs. Absently muttering "Heel, Ace," Batman otherwise ignored how the German shepherd obediently followed along after. This was going to be somewhat hard to explain to Commissioner Gordon. Just how was he going to tell Jim that his dog had accidentally killed the Joker?

Xander was busy with his own problems. See, the whole purpose of the w-word in the first place had been for him to join in the Dark Knight's adventures as first created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger so many years ago. Given that he was gonna kick the bucket any second now, why not go out with fulfilling a childhood dream? All right, all right, so he'd been pretty much hopped up on the really good morphine at the time, but Xander was positive he hadn't come right out and asked to be a dog!

Robin, sure, any of them, even Jason. If it'd indeed gone that way, Xander was sure he would figure out a way to take care of the Joker for once and all-

Another canine grin appeared on Xander's shaggy muzzle, this time much more evil than his earlier nervous smile. Well, he _had,_ hadn't he? Gloat later, though.

Back to being one of Batman's partners: again, he'd meant one of the Robins, except now that he could clearly think about it, Xander wouldn't have minded all that much showing up as any of the others. That included even such characters as Batgirl (either Barbara or Cassandra), Huntress or Stephanie Brown as Spoiler. Why not? All his life since high school, he'd been around strong women. This time, see what it'd be like as the opposite gender. But _not_ as Ace the Bat-Hound!

Xander's irascible mood at some unknown vengeance demon undoubtedly laughing their ass off at pulling such a great joke on him was interrupted by the pair of crimefighters coming out of the warehouse into a side alley. There, a sleek, midnight-black car with a bubble top and the front radiator having a large bat image awaited them. Opening the Batmobile's door for Ace, Batman told the dog, "In. Stay."

Without any hesitation, Xander again obeyed, jumping onto the passenger seat and curling up. Placing his muzzle on his front paws, this animal watched Batman go off after closing the car's door, surely on his way to make one last check on the Joker and then call the cops about that bastard's death. Fine with him, Xander thought. He needed some alone time.

Okay, it looked like Xander was stuck as a dog. Contemplating it further, this man in animal form tried to remember all he could about Ace the You-Know-What. Lessee, that character showed up sometime in the DC comics around the end of the 'fifties and made a few appearances for the next several years in various Batman issues. That time period matched this old-fashioned car, since Bruce didn't get a new one resembling the TV show vehicle created by George Barris until sometime in the mid-sixties.

Xander was rather relieved to recollect that it'd never been mentioned exactly how Ace stopped being Batman's pet. The writers back then just probably couldn't think up any more stories with that dog, but they never got around to killing Ace off, much less having a nice family adopt this German shepherd.

Sooo… what was he going to do about it? Experimentally, Xander tried to say his name out loud. In the Batmobile, a rough voice managed, "Zzzaannndrrrrrr."

Good, that settled it. If absolutely necessary, he could tell Bruce everything (and wouldn't that be a hoot). Was Zatanna around? Nah, not right now, but there were other people here more than familiar with magic, Dr. Fate for one. That gave him a honest chance to turn back into a human whenever Xander wanted.

Idly scratching at an ear with a rear paw, Xander considered this. What the heck, no need to rush things. See how the next couple of days went, all while hanging around with Bats. He'd really love to check out the Batcave, meet with Dick and Alfred, that kind of thing. In the meantime, be the Batman's loyal dog, ready to go out every night with his master to protect and defend Gotham from the scum of Arkham Asylum.

In the Batmobile's front seat, Xander grinned again. Now that he knew he wasn't permanently trapped as a large pooch, this Scooby was seeing the funny side of it. Sure, go ahead and do the whole 'masked superhero animal sidekick' bit. Who could resist meeting with Krypto and Streaky and Comet and Beppo, better known as the Legion of Super-Pets? Plus, it'd be hilarious if Xander could get away with as much trouble as possible before Bats figured it out. If he ever did.

An unnervingly dangerous glint appeared in the dog's eyes where he was seated in the car, indicating an abrupt change of mood. The Joker might've been the worse of the lot, but Xander had no sympathy nor mercy for others of this villain's ilk. If he was in Gotham for real, might as well as do some additional clean-up, just to make things a bit more exciting. It all depended on how Xander felt at the moment, whom exactly he was dealing with, and how to best accomplish it right under the nose of a certain dark avenger of the night.

Oh, yeah. Maybe if that vengeance demon ever showed up in the coming days to see the consequences of their prank, a battle-hardened Xander wouldn't hurt them _too_ much…

* * *

><p>All it took was a single "Fetch, boy!" by an enthusiastic Robin for the Penguin to be repeatedly found by Ace the Bat-Hound no matter where Oswald Cobblepot hid in Gotham and then dragged by the collar of his tuxedo to the nearest police station. Yes, it was true this master criminal completely fed up with so many undignified occasions caused by that blasted canine had based his felonious exploits on bird-related misdeeds, but that didn't mean he deserved to be actually retrieved like a wounded duck during hunting season!<p>

A quite disgusted Cobblepot, having no other recourse, ended his lawbreaking activities and decided to open what would soon be a very popular nightclub. Where _no_ dogs whatever were allowed.

* * *

><p>When it was finished, Scarecrow having been rushed to the hospital with all-over third degree burns due to his costume bursting into flames which undoubtedly crippled him for life, the World's Greatest Detective had no trouble locating the half-empty box of kitchen matches covered with doggy drool. What confounded Bruce the most was just how did that German shepherd learn to light these while gripping one match in his teeth?<p>

* * *

><p>In the middle of Batman already out cold from chloroform and stuck in one of his death traps, Harvey Dent, also known as Two-Face because of an acid attack years ago which completely destroyed the left side of this lawyer's face while leaving untouched the other side, held in one hand his lucky coin. That same coin would determine in the next few seconds the fate of his enemy. As per Two-Face's regular custom, he'd flip the coin up in the air and when it came down as either as a scarred head or an intact tails, that would decide whether Harvey would immediately kill Batman or just walk away and leave him there to escape sooner or later.<p>

With a flick of his thumb, Two-Face sent the coin spinning high in the dimly-lit construction zone. Not more than an instant later, there was the soft scrabble of paws, and from out of the darkness, Ace the Bat-Hound leapt at his master's enemy. A rare flash of mutual fear contorted both sides of Harvey's face, and he flinched away at the angry dog with this dangerous beast's jaws wide open and showing every sharp tooth in the course of his jump…which wasn't headed directly at Two-Face.

Instead, as he sailed through the air, Ace twisted his neck and expertly snapped at the descending coin, catching it in his mouth like it was a yummy snack tossed at him. At the same time the dog landed back on the ground with all four feet, a deep gulp was heard issuing from that exact spot.

Harvey stared in disbelief at where the dog had just sat down on his haunches and stared right at the human. Next, Ace slowly licked his chops with real satisfaction and then sent what was nothing else but an actual smirk at Two-Face.

Starting to realize just _where_ his lucky coin was and _how_ it'd eventually reappear, the very last of Harvey Dent's sanity crumpled away, leaving him in a permanent state of catatonia. A thin trickle of drool dripped from the corners of this man's slack mouth as he gazed blankly ahead.

Getting back up onto all of his paws, Ace trotted over to where a now-stirring Batman was tied to a steel I-beam laid on the ground. Commencing to gnaw at the ropes wrapped around the Caped Crusader's wrists and ankles, Xander cautioned himself not to snigger out loud at what Bruce was going to find when he finally woke up. Tonight's whole brand of weirdness was definitely gonna drive Bats…batty.

* * *

><p>Thinking it to be only a minor bit of aggravation in the course of their usual duties, the caretakers of one of Gotham's parks repaired a deep, water-filled hole apparently dug in the ground by a stray dog at one of the public recreation area's more remote locations. The only mysterious thing about it was how someone passing by inexplicably dragged over the hosepipe from a nearby utility shed and turned this on and off to fill up the pit to its brim with now-muddy liquid.<p>

Xander himself thought afterwards the hardest part of luring Clayface to the pit and shoving with a brisk nudge of a furry shoulder the entity composed of earth instead of flesh in there was operating without a opposable thumb the faucet which rapidly sent enough water to completely dissolve that monster into lifeless goop.

* * *

><p>After finding Mr. Freeze's decaying corpse in a hidden lab under one of the city's ice-making facilities when the day-shift workers complained about the smell coming from under the basement, the Gotham police force discovered this man requiring unvarying subzero temperatures to survive had his protective cyrogenic suit short out for some reason. Further investigation turned up an electrical cable with chewed insulation leading from the suit to an emergency generator. Also on the cable was the faintest trace of animal urine.<p>

* * *

><p>Edward Nigma abruptly woke up one night in his appropriately decorated lair with numerous question-marks everywhere. Including the bedsheets. It was not one of his more enjoyable moments, because nobody wants to find they're sharing this sleeping furniture with <em>something<em> under the covers which just chomped its jaws almost shut onto the crotch of his green-and-black pajamas. It didn't hurt, but this might change any second. Without moving any other part of his body, the Riddler cautiously turned on his bedside lamp, to see there leaning against the bottom of this appliance a nearly illegible note scrawled in pencil. Squinting at the note, Edward read:

_Here's a riddle for you: Which is better, retirement or castration?_

Peeking under the covers, Edward looked at Ace the Bat-Hound lying between a pair of wide-apart legs and still performing there this dog's menacing clamp all while beginning to slowly increase the pressure. He promptly answered, "Retirement! Now, let go!"

A man obsessed with puzzles and riddles soon afterwards invented the numbers game known as Sudoku decades earlier than it happened in our dimension. Mr. Nigma became a lot richer than he ever dreamed of as one of Batman's regular opponents. And it didn't involve being habitually punched by a vigilante into unconsciousness, or worse of all, encountering that damn dog ever again.

* * *

><p>In all these sudden deaths, mishaps, and disappearances, the <em>Gotham Post<em> had only a two-line obituary appear concerning Dr. Hugo Strange perishing in an automobile accident, where this scientist apparently swerved off the street to avoid a large dog dashing across the road in front of his car and hit a tree hard enough to wreck that vehicle and kill its driver.

* * *

><p>It all lead to Bruce darkly brooding to himself in his civilian identity at one of the family manor's sitting rooms. The events of the last few weeks ever since the Joker's death (and the resulting city-wide celebration) had been most odd. One after the other, Batman's adversaries were dying off or ceasing fully their criminal careers. The few opportunities to speak with the survivors usually resulted in them stubbornly refusing to explain these peculiar actions to a costumed vigilante. Threats didn't work either, even when Ace added his own intimidating growl. For some reason, bringing along his dog during this did nothing except making such former soundrels abruptly bursting into real tears. Which did nothing but make everyone concerned extremely embarrassed. And they <em>still<em> wouldn't talk!

Of course, there was one individual he hadn't been able to find, but he'd track her down in due time-

"Master Wayne?" murmured Alfred after materializing by a startled Bruce in his armchair. Dammit, he was Batman! Nobody sneaked up on him! Except for Alfred, Bruce had to admit.

Bruce grumpily replied, "What?"

Holding out a blank white envelope in one gloved hand, this gentleman's gentleman mentally ticked off another victory over someone who needed to learn pride goeth before a fall. In his crisp British accent, Alfred announced, "I found this with a letter inside placed before the front door. It wasn't there a few hours ago, which is when I collected the regular mail. As per your instructions, all precautions against poisons and germ attacks were carried out and neither of these were discovered on the envelope. The same was done for the letter with corresponding results, though I naturally made sure not to read the letter."

Both surprised and wary at such news, Bruce accepted the envelope and extricated the letter it contained. Unfolding the single sheet of paper, the last living Wayne read in a flowing, feminine hand:

_Bruce, our love-hate relationship with each other, you as Batman and myself as Catwoman, it's been delightful, but I must tell you we've now come to a parting of the ways._

_The whole basis of the connection we had was due to a very simple reason: Opposites attract._

_I'm a woman, you're a man. You're a hero, I'm a rogue. I steal anything which catches my eye, you catch thieves. And so on._

_However, I've met a very unique person who fits this raison d'être far better than you ever could. As a consequence, I'll be leaving Gotham with him. It's highly doubtful either of us shall ever return, so I thought it only proper to bid you a fond farewell._

_Please don't attempt to find us. You wouldn't recognize our new identities, anyway, once we visited an extremely discreet mage of my acquaintance. Fortunately, Xander's sheer impressiveness carried over in his bodily transformation, though I would've stayed with him regardless of whatever failure which might've occurred. Yes, quite immoral of me, but I don't care!_

_Oh. Perhaps you might not understand, dear Bruce?_

_Well, think of this: Cat/dog._

_Kisses,_

_Selina_

Alfred Pennyworth watched with increasing alarm at how Master Bruce's face turned white, then brick-red, and back to pasty paleness while reading the letter. In an extremely strangled voice, a Gotham scion inquired, "Alfred, have you seen Ace today?"

The butler asked this couldn't help but take a moment to mull it over. He responded with a hint of bewilderment in his own tone, "Not since last night, sir, down in the cave. Why? Is the dog missing-?"

Interrupting his father-figure, Bruce Wayne said with absolute inflexibility, "Never mind. Just two things. First, and tell Dick this as soon as you can, none of us will _ever_ mention again Ace the Bat-Hound. Second, got to the wine cellar and collect a dozen bottles of the port my father laid down the day I was born. I'm going to get as drunk as possible, starting when you get back here with them."

"Very good, sir," calmly responded Alfred. It was only when he was out of the sitting room that this butler had a moment of pity for anyone stupid enough to violate the law even in the most minor detail throughout Gotham City for the next week or so, when a hungover Batman went on his relentless rampage against crime.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I didn't intend to write another chapter, but when I put this on , I forgot to mark it as complete. As a result, one review on that fiction site wanted to know exactly how Xander met Catwoman, which in turn produced this. Enjoy! 

* * *

><p>A large German shepherd wearing a pullover black fabric mask which covered this animal's upper skull with holes cut in the cloth for his eyes and ears sat down on his back legs and intently observed the sublime ass presented at the dog's forehead level no more than a hand's width directly ahead.<p>

This adult female's rear end fully deserved a magnificent temple dedicated to the sole worship of that body part, with a congregation chanting fervent hymns of praise twenty-four hours a day in the style of Sir Mix-a Lot's _Baby Got Back._

Jennifer Lopez? Flat as a plank. Make that two planks.

Totally ignorant of the animal admiring her rump, Catwoman continued tonight's caper of stealing from one of the Gotham Museum's display cases a dozen jeweled antique snuffboxes which included a special powdered tobacco container having an outlined image of a cat's face mischievously winking done completely in flawless one-carat diamonds. That one would go into her personal collection; with the rest of the snuffboxes turned over to Catwoman's local fence and ransomed back by the museum's insurance company at half their value.

So far, everything had gone completely to plan. She'd slipped like a ghost into the building well after closing hours, the guards wouldn't be back to check the room for a good fifteen minutes, and the security measures were nothing but a joke to someone with Selina Kyle's burglary expertise.

Take for instance the floor pressure mats placed to surround the display case holding the snuffboxes. Anyone stepping onto these presently switched-on mats would activate a very loud alarm, except Catwoman knew there was an inherent weight limit built in the device usually adjusted at around forty pounds of pressure. Nobody responsible for safeguarding the museum's contents particularly wanted to have to investigate ringing bells blasting at ear-splitting levels every time a mouse scampered across the room floor. That'd be forestalled quite nicely by the forty pound weight limit which would prevent any sort of potential thief from setting foot on the mats. What else was going to come along anyway and try a dishonest grab tonight, a trained monkey?

All it took was two minutes for Selina to gather four chairs provided for museum visitors to sit down in the room to admire its artwork, place them in front of the snuffbox display case in two pairs about five feet apart and arranged back-to-back, and then hop onto the upper parts of the chairs. Doing a gymnast's front straddle split with her legs held horizontal to the floor and the heels of her boots resting against the joined chair tops, all of Catwoman's weight was so evenly distributed onto them that the pressure mats didn't make the slightest peep.

If he'd actually had hands, Xander currently transformed into a dog would've applauded at seeing that acrobatic move from where he'd been hiding in the shadows under another display case at the other end of the dimly-lit museum room. In between, of course, while leering at how this subsequently displayed a world-class butt in a black, skin-tight leotard. When he'd been sure Miss Tight Buns was too busy to notice, Xander next moved as silently as a lifetime of sneaking up on vamps and Slayers had taught him, to stop at his own current position. It was all done without the single click of a toenail or a huffed doggy breath.

Still unaware of the pervert in a fur coat right behind her and watching her every move, Catwoman finished the second part of her exploit. The flat glass sheet for the case with an attached lock would've taken too long to pick this lock or use a diamond cutter to carve through the glass, so Selina was forced to think outside the box. Using a tiny cylinder with a nozzle plucked from the backpack she was wearing, this supremely-fit woman squirted concentrated acid entirely around the upper portion of the wooden display case with its thick vertical laths holding up the glass sheet.

Waiting patiently for the acid to completely eat through the wood, Catwoman maintained without any trouble her gymnastic performance. Years of yoga and other contortionist training now came into play, and Selina did an experimental shake of the loose upper portion of the display case. Satisfied it could be lifted entirely and then set aside balancing onto one edge out of the way so as to easily remove the snuffboxes, the Princess of Plunder carefully leaned forward and placed the palms of both hands against the opposite sides of the case. With an indrawn breath, Selina firmly pressed inwards with her hands at the same time. Then, all while maintaining this pressure, she raised up the detached case-

Hesitating for just one more moment to enjoy the witnessed ripple of muscles this created along the sleek portion of Catwoman's lower limbs, Xander then decisively thrust forward his head. This caused the tip of the dog's big, rubbery nose to poke right into a thinly-covered portion of Selina's anatomy which would normally be touched only by a person of the masculine gender upon the provision of the deed to a fully-furnished Fifth Avenue penthouse.

"YAAAHHHH!" shrieked Catwoman, reflexively throwing up her arms and letting go of the removed portion of the display case at the same time. She paid no attention to attention whatsoever to this object flying away, being more occupied with frantically flexing her legs to leap with a thunderous crash onto the table before her, sending snuffboxes hurtling everywhere. An instant later, never having been designed for this, the display case's own supports collapsed under Selina's weight, sending her tumbling to the floor in unison with the detached case portion smashing into splinters and glass shards against the room's far wall.

In response, every alarm in the Gotham Museum went off at once. 

* * *

><p>Glaring after at the rear red lights of the departing Batmobile from her concealed spot under a dense bush in the extensive park next to the museum grounds, Catwoman inwardly further vowed to make Bruce pay for this. After a ten-minute chase scene throughout the entire building which ended with her finally shaking off that big idiot through liberal use of smoke bombs, she'd grumpily waited for him to leave in between plotting her thorough revenge.<p>

Selina wasn't quite sure _exactly_ what'd happened to start it all off in the first place, tonight's disaster, except for that very indecorous touch. She was still certain nobody but her had been in the room when this female burglar had entered, but obviously this couldn't be. Leaving at her fastest run also meant no chance to check as to whom to blame for that, and then Catwoman had come face-to-face with the Caped Crusader a few hallways distant so it was equally clear Batman was innocent of goosing her.

It didn't matter the slightest. She was going to do something really nasty to Wayne Junior as a minor sop to her extremely bad mood. Next would come absolute vengeance upon the unknown culprit, one to be spoken of in awed whispers for decades by the Gotham underworld.

Flexing her right glove with their attached metallic fingernails as if practicing for sinking these into cowering human flesh, Catwoman took a moment to wonder if Bruce's little tag-along was responsible for the whole debacle. But…no, tonight was a school night, and she hadn't seen the least glimpse of green short-shorts and a yellow cape. Good thing too, or that kid wouldn't live a minute longer in his already short existence on earth.

Wriggling out from under the bush, Selina brushed herself off and glanced around while absently touching the coiled whip dangling from one hip. Let's see, the spare clothes she'd previously stashed under a park bench should be off in that direction… Heading without further ado towards there, Catwoman stalked along the path, savoring the threats she'd make to gangland snitches-

Passing by a side path curving out of sight among other bushes, Selina stopped short at hearing a very strange noise coming from further down this other path. It sounded kind of like a rhythmic whacking of a stick against something: _Whap, whap, whap._

Reversing her steps, Catwoman cautiously edged into the side path, and found sitting under the streetlamp there, a large German shepherd. Wearing a black mask. With a dog collar having an attached black dog tag carved into a bat symbol.

Seeing the woman staring at him, Ace the Bat-Hound seated upon his haunches now upped the speed of his wagging tail and happily panted at that nice-smelling lady.

In turn observing the quivering, elastic nose and remembering the recent rumors picked up from Gotham's seediest dens of iniquity that Batman had for his own mysterious reasons acquired a pet dog, Selina Kyle swiftly connected the dots. _All_ of them.

An instant red haze descended over her vision, Catwoman's beautiful face distorted into a vicious snarl, and she grabbed for her whip. Only to freeze motionless as this truly irate woman still bearing bruises down there fought for control.

Yes, as noted in her villain's name, she far preferred felines instead of canines, but Selina had never physically mistreated any animal in her entire life. No matter what it'd done. Removing her hand from the whip handle, she settled for giving that silly thing her best scorching glare.

Rather than quail under this dirty look, the dog got up on all four feet, ambled over to where a startled Catwoman was standing, and sat down again in front of her. Right after, Ace lifted his left forelimb and held it out to be shaken.

Uttering a disbelieving snort, Selina began to turn around in preparation for leaving. She halted in her tracks at the beseeching whine coming from where Ace was still waiting with his paw up and ready. Swinging back, Selina rolled her eyes in exasperation only to then bend over and give the dog a grudging handshake.

In reaction when Catwoman let go, Ace leaned back to perpendicularly balance there on his rear legs and held out both half-closed forelimbs as if begging.

Giving a cynical shrug, Selina played along by telling the dog, "Sorry, fella, I don't have a bone on me, so you're out of luck."

Promptly developing a saddened expression from under his mask, the German shepherd slowly toppled over onto his side. Landing with a thump onto the ground there, Ace let his tongue completely loll from out of the side of his muzzle and then became stock-still in a masterful display of a dead dog.

This produced an actual amused twitch at the corners of Selina's mouth. She couldn't help saying, "Okay, maybe I might have one for you later."

Springing both back into life and up onto nothing but his rear paws, Ace ecstatically danced in a complete circle around Selina who despite herself couldn't help but enjoy this performance. This resulted in her bending over again when that dog dropped back on all four feet and then rolled over on the ground to sprawl flat on his back upon the tips of Catwoman's boots. Recognizing what the dog wanted, a chuckling Selina gave the dog's furry chest a good scratching with every fingernail she had, careful all the while not to cut or slash him with these.

During all that, the human female couldn't help noticing that this was _definitely_ one hung dog.

Speedily casting around for something else to consider besides what she'd just thought, a faintly blushing Selina had to wonder just why Bruce had trained this pooch to do all that-

_Hold_ it.

Bruce/Batman.

Dog.

Revenge.

Bruce/Batman + dog + revenge = $$$$$$ payback.

Abruptly straightening up, Selina stared ahead, a slow, malicious grin developing upon her face. Hmmm, just how would dear Bruce react to a ransom note with an accompanying photo of this kidnapped dog shaved bald except for some dyed-pink poodle fur fluffs and being threatened with Catwoman sashaying with her latest poochie-woochie through Oswald's nightclub? Cobblepot would certainly go for it, even cancelling for that visit alone his latest 'No dogs!' policy…

Looking down at where the German shepherd still supine was staring back up with bright eyes through his mask at her, Selina cooed at this perfectly wonderful canine, "Hey, fella, how'd you like to come home with me?"

In a flash, Ace was upright and at Selina's side, ready to follow this woman anywhere.

Patting Ace's head, Catwoman strode off, already planning where to stop off along the way to burgle a pet shop for everything she might need: dog food, water bowl, and of course some hair clippers. Yep, got to have those.

Obediently following at his new mistress' heels, Xander let himself luxuriate in the moment until a stern inner reproach reminded this transformed man about enough being enough. Now that she was in a sufficiently good mood, Xander could risk what he'd been working towards through all of tonight's absurd events.

*Come to think of it, here's even more weirdness. Let's hope she doesn't freak out too much, or decide I should be neutered instead. Okay, mister, you're up.*

In the deserted nighttime park save for herself and the dog trotting by this woman, Selina Kyle now heard from lower down at around knee level in a hoarse, bestial voice, "Cooome toooo the daaarrrrk siiiide, Caaaatwoooman. We haaaave coooookiezzzz."


	3. Chapter 3

The tall witch with a lantern jaw and a pointy nose standing at the north point of the casting circle joyfully cackled, "When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

At the circle's south side, a much shorter and heavier witch responded with equally delighted malevolence, "When the hurly-burly's done, when the battle's lost and won!"

With that said, these two witches stared expectantly at the third of their number who was the most beautiful of this trio, even while rolling her eyes in evident disgust. From her western position, a young blonde dressed in a sexy purple robe slit up high on the thigh criticized, "Do we have to do this _every_ single time, Mildred?" That very irritated remark was directed at the dumpy witch.

In response, Mildred grouchily shrugged. "It's been over three hundred and fifty years since Bill from Stratford wrote about us and we haven't seen one thin dime from his estate since. I don't know about you but until someone cuts us a decent royalty check, nobody better complain about a little breach of copyright, understand me, Cynthia, Mordred?"

As if her name being snappishly spoken last of all was some sort of signal, the tall witch then contributed in a much more soothing, "Besides, Cynthia, our current customers deserve a bit of a show, don't you think?" This remark of her own from Mordred was accompanied by a polite nod at both the large dog in the center of the casting circle and the final member of their company, who'd been trading rather incredulous gazes with each other over listening to this sudden family squabble.

From where she'd been placed in the eastern point of the circle drawn on the shabby basement floor of one of Gotham's oldest and most decrepit houses dating all the way back to colonial times, Selina Kyle, otherwise known as Catwoman, sent in return a quite gracious smile at Mordred. It was done well enough by Selina that this courteous expression successfully hid her growing conviction that maybe this hadn't been the best idea ever.

* * *

><p>In her career as one of the world's finest cat burglars, Selina knew a good deal more about what lurked in the dark than did the majority of humanity who mostly thought it was all a bunch of stories designed to scare children into being good and going to bed early. Spending a lot of her time prowling around at night occasionally ended up with Selina witnessing some definitely odd occurrences. Which included vampires and other demons. As for magic, you couldn't steal as many ancient valuables as Catwoman did without this theme villainess once in a while encountering an authentically cursed or blessed piece of potential plunder.<p>

That was as far as she wanted things to go, though. Selina had neither the time nor the inclination to investigate further the supernatural world. One of the main reasons for her turning down various hopeful clients' commissions was if Selina ever found out in advance they wanted this master thief to rob a wizard's lair or some other place like that filled with magic treasures, she'd flatly refuse right then and there. Selina would cheerfully acknowledge to herself that she was a honest to goodness thrill-seeker, but there was a distinct difference between having an exciting time and being actually suicidal beyond belief.

This also applied to hostile demons, including vampires. She knew and followed the basic precautions against those latter evil blood-drinkers. If absolutely necessary in the course of her exploits when coming across a vampire which promptly saw her as a delicious snack, Selina either ran like hell or killed her fanged foe without even playing with them like a proper cat would do with its prey. Never in her wildest dreams would this woman ever go _hunting_ for them, unlike someone who'd spent their whole life doing this in the company of warrior girls given superhuman powers.

Learning just what kind of person currently trapped in the form of a talking German shepherd had revealed about themselves to Selina made this lady seriously doubt her sanity. Slayers? Watchers? Vengeance demons? Her entire reality being nothing more than a comic book in another dimension which was so popular it'd lasted for almost a century, from paper to computer screens? Weren't computers big, huge machines that just counted numbers and took up whole office rooms?

Yet, Xander Harris' story told to her for hours until sunrise broke over Gotham all fitted together. It eventually resulted in Selina sighing and asking what next?

In his rough, growling voice now even more hoarse despite lapping up half a bowl of water, Xander optimistically inquired, "Doooo yooouuu haaaave Dooooc Faaate'ssss phooone nuuumberrrr, maaaayyybeee?"

Unfortunately, she didn't. In fact, Selina soon explained after the following dozen names also meaning nothing to her about this woman's usual avoidance regarding magic and the resulting unfamiliarity with those in the enchanting biz. Hearing that, a genuinely discouraged expression produced by this on the dog's furry face made Selina really try to think of anything which might help. In the middle of this, Selina couldn't help asking, "Why not tell Bruce what's going on? Actually, I'd like to be there when you do-"

Xander sheepishly rumbled, "Ummm…heee kiiiinnndaaaa miiiiightttt nnnnooot beeee thhhhrrrrillllledddd ooovvveerrrr mmmeee tttttaaaakkkkiiiinggg oooouuttt hiissss ennnnemmmiessss wiitthhh extreeeeemmme preeeejuuuudicccce."

Running that through her mind to make it more comprehensible, Selina shortly nodded. "Batman would never tolerate what you've done here lately, even though you picked and chose among those who were real monsters and the others like me who just want to turn a dishonest buck."

"Riiiiightttt. Pennnngggyyyy annnnddd Riiidddleerrr, nnnnoooo moooorrre thhhaaaannnn crrroooookkksss. Rrrreeeessstt oooffff 'emmmm, mmmooosssstttlllyyy mmmuurrrdeeerrrrerrrrsss. Whheeennn haaaddddd ttttoooo, dddddiiiidddd thhhhhhee ssssaaaammmmee bbbaaaackkk hooommmee. Annnyyyythhhhiiiingggg fffooorrr mmmyyyy ggiiirrrrrllllsss."

Selina's mouth twitched with reluctant humor. "Eddie only wants to outsmart Bruce- Well, maybe not anymore, considering what you said you did to him a few nights ago." Her lips abruptly thinned into part of her newest expression of sheer loathing. "For killing the Joker alone, that'd get you free drinks for life at any bar in town. Every time he looked at me and laughed, I wanted to scratch his eyes out and then scrub myself raw."

"Wwwaaasss aaaaa hooonnneesssttt acccciiiidddeeennnttt."

Waving away that comment, Selina had to agree with Xander's earlier remark. "So, no chance of getting in touch with some magician or anyone else Bruce knows. I do have my own contacts, who in turn might- _Hold it!_"

"Whhhaaatttt?" a curious Xander wanted to know after seeing how Selina was thoughtfully frowning after abruptly interrupting herself.

"There's something…what'd I say a second ago? About a bar? It was a pretty long time ago and didn't have anything to do with why I was really there, but I overheard a guy telling his friends a ghost story about a weird place somewhere in Gotham. Even weirder were the three women living there…"

The next night, after opening their decaying house's front door to an extremely-fit female dressed up in a cat costume and accompanied by a large canine wearing his own black mask which didn't disguise a very intelligent stare, Cynthia merely stepped aside without a word to allow this strange pair to enter together.

* * *

><p>In between their latest bout of bickering, Mordred caught sight of Miss Kyle looking decidedly lost. Clearing her throat in her best suppressive manner to get their attention, this witch told her relatives, "Girls, girls! Let's finish the job first, please? Now, if you're ready, on the count of three… One, two, three!"<p>

Lifting up a skinny hand with its full contingent of warts growing throughout there, Mordred snapped her fingers once with a resulting sharp _Crack!_

In perfect unison, Cynthia and Mildred did the same. An instant later, a globe of glowing white light appeared around the motionless dog seated in the center of the casting circle, completely hiding Xander from the others' view.

Putting down her hand with obvious satisfaction as shown by a snaggle-toothed grin, Mildred called over to where Catwoman was worriedly staring at this globe, "It'll be a minute or two, dearie. Come along, wait here with us." A jerk of Mildred's head indicated where she wanted Selina to move.

Giving another doubtful glance at the illuminated sphere which didn't look like anything was happening there, Selina nonetheless obeyed the stout witch's instructions. Stepping backwards out of the circle and then skirting the geometrical construct to where the other three women were now clustered, Selina stopped at Cynthia's side, just in time for this blonde to ask, "Ready to pay what you owe us?"

Keeping in mind Xander's previous instructions on how to safely do this, Selina just nodded and reached in one of her costume's pockets to pull out a single dollar bill. Without another word, that money was handed over to Cynthia who accepted it with equal silence. Only when she fully let go and saw Cynthia put away the dollar did Selina dare to wonder now that the bargain had been fulfilled, "Why the low price? I mean, I thought it'd cost more to turn a dog back into a man!"

"Oh, we'd have done it for nothing, missy. A chance to examine up close someone born on a Hellmouth and then spending their whole life affected by so much magic different from anything else we know?" amiably chuckled Mordred speaking for all of the witches. "Still, to be on the safe side, the price we quoted should be satisfactory enough to whomever might be watching us. It also helps your Mr. Harris was a man before his change. Much easier to put him back as he was, sometime when he was fully grown and fit as a fiddle. However, we had to leave one thing alone-"

Just when an alarmed Selina was about to ask what Mordred meant, the globe abruptly shimmered. It then vanished, leaving Xander standing in the middle of the casting circle on his now entirely human feet along with the rest of his normal scarred body which he'd had when Xander was thirty years old and received a cloned eye replacing his missing one.

Blinking at seeing colors again, Xander let a wide grin stretching from ear to ear develop on his regular face having no more hair than the usual five o'clock shadow, and then he thrust his bare arms up with an accompanying whoop of triumph: "YEAH!"

Still holding up his arms while beaming ahead at where four women were gawking at him, Xander suddenly shivered in the cool basement. Damn, but he'd never thought about missing his previous fur, quickly went through Xander's mind, along with looking down at his completely nude body exposed to the surrounding low temperatures.

In a blur of action, Xander's hands shot down and he modestly covered himself. Albeit with some difficulty in this, despite the chilly air.

Leaning over to whisper from out of the side of her mouth to Cynthia, Mordred asked, "You did tell them that for two bucks, we'd provide him with clothes?"

Whispering back above a drooling Mildred in the middle of the trio, Cynthia innocently admitted, "Ooopsie. Must've slipped my mind."

"I'm sure," sniffed Mordred. This aged witch lifted an inquiring eyebrow at how Miss Kyle next marched forwards, directly at Xander desperately glancing around for any kind of nearby garments and only then brightening up at maybe Selina having an answer for this-

Once she got within range, Catwoman punched Xander hard in the mouth, sending him toppling backwards to crash onto the basement floor. Standing over his dazed body as she rubbed at her gloved knuckles, Selina loudly declared with vicious glee in her tone, "That's for goosing me."

The witches continued to watch with shared fascination. They next saw how Selina reached down to implacably grip with one hand Xander's hair and use this to haul him back up onto his feet, ignoring how he bellowed in sudden pain all the way. This agony stopped equally abruptly when Catwoman pressed her nubile body against the man's nude form and used her hands now pressed at the back of Xander's skull to yank him forwards into giving her a scorching kiss regardless of his bruised lips. As if they had a mind of their own, Xander's own hands clamped onto Catwoman's rear end, already beginning to knead the covered flesh there.

Simultaneously grabbing Mildred's shoulders as one, Cynthia and Mordred began hauling this protesting witch backwards, her heels dragging on the floor. In their determined course towards the basement door and the flight of stairs leading upwards, Mildred recovered enough to make a magical gesture towards the nearest room corner. In that location, a huge four-poster bed with reinforced mattress springs, silk sheets, and pillows with hearts embroidered upon the cases appeared from out of thin air.

Mordred and Cynthia looked over a snickering Mildred's head and shrugged in mutual acceptance at each other. A quick nod by Mordred at the basement door had it open on its own. When they all went through this doorway and at the foot of the stairs, the door slammed shut with finality, interrupting the sound of ripping cloth as a costume was reduced to scraps.

Shaking herself loose of the other witches' grip, Mildred gaily skipped up the stairs, humming at every tread.

Behind her and taking the stairs much more slowly, Mordred sighed to a tolerant Cynthia, "I do hope it all ends well, before what I could tell Miss Kyle about happens. After all, there's no way we could've completely cleared all the Chaos magic out from him, right? It's not so bad, being a human twelve hours out of every twenty-four, and then a dog for the next twelve hours. Surely, _nobody_ has that much stamina!"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: The witches mentioned above are from one of DC Comics' more obscure titles, <em>The Witching Hour,<em> which ran from 1969 to 1978. Mordred, Mildred, and Cynthia were drawn as the hosts who introduced and sometimes appeared in various horror tales (considering the Comic Code Authority was in full effect then, the stories weren't all that scary). It's true these witches first appeared in three-color print nearly a full decade after Xander landed in the DCverse, but based on both who they are and what they mentioned, this triad of Maiden/Mother/Crone archetypes have been around for a very long time before that.

My only regret is that I couldn't think of a way to add the Mad Mod Witch…


	4. Chapter 4

"What about this one?" asked Selina, tracing with a fingertip the thin scar on Xander's bare lower chest.

Looking down at where the naked beautiful woman in the bed they were sharing was touching him, Xander reasonably had to think this over for a moment. "Um, a Bruthlyyk demon in Singapore."

Selina next went on to poke at a much deeper healed gouge on the man's right bicep which looked as it'd been inflicted by something with three sets of teeth, "And that?"

"Dodged the wrong way, couldn't help getting munched on by some Z!woset's familiar. Never found out what it was called, our Council squad instead retreated from the Budapest sewer system right after and burned the whole place down to the last vamp."

Selina's eyebrows rose over how easily Xander pronounced the !click! noise she'd just heard. "Exactly who thought up those ridiculous names in the first place?"

Xander grinned. "About a month in at Sunnydale after we hooked up, me and Buffy and Wils and Giles were doing some research in the library. It didn't take long for Buffy to complain every demon species in her Watcher's dusty books was identified like all the tiles from a Scrabble game had been tossed on the floor. Next, someone wearing spiked golf shoes walked over these, with the letters stuck there then pried from these cleats and randomly shuffled them to make up a really dumb name. Giles just went red a little and polished his glasses faster, but he didn't come out and _deny_ it."

Noticing at that point Xander's fond smile had turned bittersweet, Selina snuggled closer and laid her head upon his chest. Listening to the man's strong heartbeat, she sympathetically murmured, "You miss them all, don't you?"

His left arm cradling the woman's shoulders lying next to him hugged her a bit harder, and then relaxed. Staring up at the basement ceiling, Xander admitted, "Yeah. I never thought I'd be the last one. Well, except for Andrew, but he doesn't remember me or anybody else because of his Alzheimer's."

"Was that why you made your w-"

A swift press with Xander's left palm now completely covering Selina's mouth stopped her from saying anything more. He left it there while urgently advising, "_Not_ a good idea ever saying that. Better to get into the habit of never using the double-you word. I wound up here because of magic and it's part of this world, too, so ix-nay on engeance-vay emons-day in case one of 'em's listening."

Selina stuck out her tongue and gave Xander's palm a damp lick. He jerked his hand off her face and then wiped it off on the disheveled bed sheets they were lying upon, giving an amused grunt at Selina's retaliation.

Satisfied by this small triumph, the woman began again. "Fine, your decision, then, when you made up your mind to come here as one of Bruce's sidekicks."

Xander said seriously, "I was _dying,_ Selina. I'd already said all my goodbyes earlier to the kids, grandkids and great-grandkids and whoever came to see me for the last time. At that point when I opened my big mouth, I was pretty much counting down to maybe only a couple of minutes more and my head wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders. Considering what I've gone through with Anya, Hallie, and D'Hoffryn, winding up as Ace the Bat-Hound wasn't the worse which could've happened to me."

"Well, you're not anymore," pointed out Selina. She paused a moment while a stray thought tried to attract her attention, something which Mordred had been about to mention. Dismissing it for now, Selina continued, "So, what are your plans?"

"I dunno," Xander sighed. "It's not like I can drop in at Wayne Manor today and tell Bats his pet dog for the last few weeks was me until I finally regained my rugged good looks with the help of three witches. Even if he's not presently the paranoid asshole that Frank Miller and the rest turned him into, this might be kinda hard for him to swallow even if I tried to blame Bat-Mite for it."

When Selina seemed about to speak, Xander shook his head. "I know you'd back me up, but I don't want to put you through that. Bats has his own issues with Catwoman, remember? Plus, sooner or later, it'd come out how much I know about every hero and villain in the DC Universe's Silver Age. That puts one huge target on me, along with anybody else around who I might've told. I think the best thing to do is to totally disappear-ACK!"

That abrupt shocked yelp coming from Xander was due to Selina unexpectedly grabbing with her hand this male's genitals and giving them a quick squeeze just a fractional less pressure from causing him agonizing pain. Keeping the tight hold there with her fingers, which weren't in her Catwoman gloves with the metal fingernails but still possessed rather sharp original cuticles, Selina now menacingly purred at a stunned Xander not daring to move a muscle (_especially_ anywhere down there), "Alexander Harris, you'll do no such thing! You come into my life as a talking dog, reveal your secrets, and then expect me to wave goodbye as you head off into the sunset? Not a chance, buster!"

A prayerful whimper then issued from deep within Xander's throat when Selina next gave another firm squeeze to his man-parts, once again almost causing him actual damage. Ignoring this sound as being of no consequence, Selina went on glaring nearly nose-to-nose at him. "What we're going to do instead is figure out how to deal with this, together! You've got any ideas about sneaking away, you better not even try it! I'll hunt you down wherever your cowardly ass is hiding and turn you into two hundred pounds of chopped liver! And then, I'll get _inventive!_" This last was wrathfully hissed towards Xander's paling face.

Satisfied she'd made her point (all five of them nearly drawing blood), Selina at last let go. This woman calmly regarded Xander attempting a furtive peek further down his body without setting her off again. When his gaze flickered back to where Selina was still watching him, Xander dithered a moment before risking, "Can I just say two things?"

A gracious nod was bestowed upon Xander by Selina. This produced from him a fervent, "Yes, ma'am! Whatever you say! Also, is it already around or did you make it up right this second, the phrase 'when you've got them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow'?"

Selina contemplated what she'd just heard, before happily declaring, "I like it. Is that a quote from someone?"

Very glad she seemed to be in a far better mood than mere seconds ago, Xander shrugged. "Nobody's really sure. It won't be mentioned at large until sometime a decade from now."

Dismissing this as somewhat interesting but with no need of extra discussion at this point, Selina looked across the basement to the diagonal skylight set there at the far end of the ceiling. This skylight was just past the portion of the inner wall where another door led to a basic below-ground bathroom. Perhaps an hour before when they'd woken up in each others' arms and began their post-coital conversation, it'd already shown a dim morning illumination denoting the earliness of the hour. Now, the brightness shining from there was much greater, indicating that maybe it was time for breakfast-

As if that thought had been a signal to her stomach, this trim part of Selina's body loudly growled. Ever noisier was Xander's own inner rumble instantly joining in. Looking in surprise at their companion, Selina and Xander then roared with mutual laughter. They got up and out of the bed, with this nude pair standing side by side in their bare feet on the basement's stone floor.

A very rueful expression on her face, Selina waved an indicating hand at the discarded scraps of her former costume also lying there on the floor. "I guess I could wear a bedsheet when going upstairs. Cynthia's about my size, maybe I could borrow a robe from her. I don't know about you, though."

"Yeah," Xander glumly concurred. "Maybe you could go shopping in that, pick up some pants for- WHAAAAARRFFF?!"

That astonished howl ending in a bark of disbelief came from the German shepherd now at Selina's side. Now the only human there, this woman gawked at where a once-again furry Xander was frantically twisting and turning his head to look himself over, from a drooping tail to hairy paws. It was at this point that Selina muttered aloud: "Oh. _That's_ what Mordred was trying to say."

* * *

><p>Selina had been rather hesitant to partake of the proffered breakfast. There'd been floating in the back of her head the words 'eye of newt and toe of frog', but thankfully Mildred had whipped up a quite prosaic meal of coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. This plump witch bustling around in her kitchen had even deposited a heaping portion of the latter two items into a bowl and put this on the kitchen floor for Xander to eat. While still in a state of sullen fury, the dog's appetite had won out and several minutes of him gulping down every bite of this soon resulted in a licked-clean bowl, matching Selina's finished plate.<p>

Taking a final sip of coffee, Selina glanced around the kitchen from where she was sharing this room's table with Cynthia across the furniture nibbling at a piece of toast. As hoped for, the blonde had good-naturedly lent one of her robes to Selina which she now wore. In a few minutes the taxi called to the witches' house would collect the pair and take them to Selina's apartment with this cab then returning with Cynthia's robe after the cat burglar quickly changed into one of her own outfits.

In one corner of the kitchen, Mordred was smoking a pungent pipe and rocking back and forth in her rocking chair, observing everyone else with a decidedly sardonic eye. This expression of dark amusement only deepened while watching how Xander trotted by Mildred cleaning up at the stove and sat down in front of Mordred to glare right at this leader of the three witches.

In a supremely aggrieved tone, Xander snarled at Mordred, "Whhhaaatttt hhhaaapppeennneddd?"

Taking out her pipe, Mordred blew a smoke ring directly at Xander, nailing him between the eyes with this floating circular cloud. She then smirked at this grouchy dog pulling back his lips to show every fang he possessed back at her.

"Sonny, just be grateful we could do _something_ about the magic spell that's on you. Whoever did it in the first place, they've got a definite mean streak. There's no way you can be permanently turned back into a human by anything we know. However, that smoke ring I just did, it'll allow you to be a man half the time, twelve hours a day, from nine in the morning to nine at night. After that, you'll be a dog for the next twelve hours. It'll start today at nine when you get to Miss Kyle's apartment with you then switching back and forth like I just told you. The only other workable option was for us to change you into a were-dog or more accurately, a dog-were. You really want to try being human just three nights of the full moon and converting everybody you bite into another German shepherd?"

The dog winced at hearing this uncompromising declaration. Eventually, Xander sighed, and bowed his upper body to the witch along with a rumbled, "Ssssooorrryyy."

A stern nod of Mordred's head showed she'd accepted this apology. The crone continued, "Now, buck up, lad. It's possible someone else in the magical world has a way to fully cure you, so you might want to think about looking for them. In the meantime, we'll keep studying the spell and send you a message if anything promising turns up. Are you going to be in town?"

Xander turned his head to stare at Selina in her kitchen table chair. She shook her head. "There's no way he can stay with Batman now, so the both of us might as well as leave Gotham as soon as we can arrange- What?" After saying this, Selina frowned at where Xander had just leapt up onto all four feet and was trembling in actual eagerness.

His eyes full of stars, Xander crooned a heartfelt request, "Ccccannnn wwweeee gggoooo ttttoooo…_Mmmmeeetttrrrooopppooolllliiisssss?_"

Unsure of exactly why he wanted this, Selina cautiously answered, "Fine, why not? Oh."

Xander sat down on his haunches, lifted his head towards the kitchen ceiling and began to bay deafeningly in absolute bliss, "Ttttrrruuuttthhhh, jjjjuuusssttiiicceee-"

"OKAY!" shouted Selina over Xander's gleeful howling. "We'll try to see Superman! Now, shut up!"

All three of the witches were chuckling at witnessing this amusing byplay between the pair. Cynthia now spoke up. "Selina, Xander, we've got something for each of you. You're first, poochie. C'mere."

Giving the youngest witch a dirty look at being called this, Xander nevertheless went over to where Cynthia was seated. Standing in front of her, he saw how she slipped a hand into a robe pocket and pulled out two strips of leather with buckles. One of these was quite familiar; it happened to be Ace's collar which had been removed from him the previous night before the witches tried their spell. Cynthia pushed that collar across the table towards Selina who pocketed this into her own robe.

Cynthia then strapped the new collar around Xander's furry neck, tightening it into the proper position. Satisfied, she straightened up in her chair while a puzzled Xander tried to crane his head to see what was on him. Failing as expected in this, Xander looked up at Cynthia and asked, "Hey, why'd you- I can talk better now!"

Indeed, the dog in the kitchen was speaking as well as he could in human form.

Nodding, Cynthia told both a startled Selina and Xander, "That's the minor effect. The main one, it'll start the next time you change back. Put on any clothes you want then, and when you become a dog again, they'll magically stay with you. Become human, the clothes appear too with you still wearing them."

A delighted Xander exclaimed, "Thanks a lot, Cynthia!"

Cynthia smiled at the dog's enthusiasm, all while pulling out another object from her robe pocket. "One more thing." She held this up for everyone in the room to see. It was a quarter-sized silver disk attached to a thin gold chain that'd do as a bracelet. Cynthia next bent down to present it at head level for Xander.

"Press your nose against the disk for a ten-count, staying in contact all through this. When you're doing that, think about a woman your age whose face you'd recognize anywhere, anytime. This is a glamour for Selina, so keep that in mind."

Xander nodded thoughtfully. Selina herself was confused, since she had no idea what Cynthia was talking about. The master thief watched with increasing bafflement while Xander then obediently carried out the witch's instructions. When this was done, Cynthia straightened up again and handed over the bracelet to Selina, who took it with an inquiring gaze which wanted an answer.

Cynthia just smiled, and directed, "Put the bracelet on, Selina."

After a moment's hesitation, Selina also obeyed, without any seeming consequences to her of this action. However, the witches had matching expressions of mild approval but nothing more appeared in unison upon their different visages. Xander, on the other hand…

A large German shepherd looks really weird with their eyes bugging out and their lower jaw falling open in absolute shock to brush against a hairy chest.

"What?" asked a panicky Selina.

With a casual wave of her hand, Mildred caused a rectangular mirror to appear from thin air, hanging without any visible means of support in front of Selina. This woman stared in disbelief at seeing there in her seat someone else completely different from how she normally looked. There were some similarities of hair color, age, and body shape, but otherwise the rather exotic stranger resembled Selina Kyle not at all.

Another wave of Mildred's hand caused the mirror to vanish, at the same time Selina yelled at the top of her lungs, "HARRIS! What'd you do to me?!"

"It's just a glamour, Selina! Uh, think of it as a magical disguise! You'll show a new face to the whole world, but your original face stays the same under it! If you don't like it, all you've got to do is take off the bracelet! Right, Cynthia?" came out in a rush of words from Xander not wanting to have all his chin whiskers pulled out one at a time as a properly deserved punishment.

"That's right, Selina," confirmed Cynthia, though this witch then glanced with interest at Xander. "Who is she, anyway?"

Throttling down her temper for a moment, a furious Selina then glowered at where Xander was returning a genuine…hangdog…expression back at her. She listened to him groveling, "It's Ampata, all right? I told you about her, but instead of how she was in high school, I imagined her as a grown-up, what she never had."

That took completely away in a flash any ire Selina might've borne. She'd indeed listened with compassion to Xander's story of the sacrificed Incan princess who'd never wanted to drain the lives of others and yet had been offered this by a teenage boy himself ready to help someone he liked any way he could do so.

Sighing, Selina told the dog, "Xander, you're forgiven. I'll wear this…glamour?…but in the future, I suggest you always remember something your female friends in your other world must've repeatedly told you: _Never_ surprise a woman without advance warning."

The three witches listening there solemnly nodded in mutual agreement.

At that point, a quite commonplace sound entered the kitchen from the front of the ancient house. It was a car horn being honked out in the street, undoubtedly coming from the taxi now parked there. Selina still wearing her charm started to get up, only to have Xander shake his head at her. The dog then studied each of the witches for a few seconds altogether, before wondering, "Ladies, what's the catch? It's nice, you doing us a couple of favors that we can really use, but neither of us came out and asked for the collar and the glamour. You want to clue us in, maybe, before we walk out of here with them and end up owing you some even bigger favors?"

An appreciative twist of Mordred's lips came along with her praise, "Ah, it's good to deal with people who know the proper protocols. Fine; in return for our gifts, we merely ask to keep an occasional eye on you. Simply put, all of us have the feeling-"

"Make it a certainty," snickered Mildred.

Continuing as if she'd never been interrupted, Mordred finished, "-that your lives together from now on are going to be very…_interesting._ It'll be even more fun to watch than any Ed Sullivan program with Topo Gigio and a dozen Bulgarian jugglers!" chortled the witch in her rocking chair now tickled pink by the prospect of witnessing first hand a Chaos magnet wandering around the world accompanied by a woman thief more than capable of stealing the Pope's mitre in the middle of a St. Peter's Square blessing of the faithful.

Xander only shrugged, not all that surprised. "No problem, but that's just my opinion. Selina has the deciding vote." He glanced at her. "Whatever you want is fine with me, honey."

In time with another impatient blare of the outside car horn, Selina quickly thought it over. She did have one important question to ask. "Uh, are you going to be watching _all_ the time-?"

Guessing correctly what Selina was going to say, Mordred cut her off rather kindly, "No, we'll respect your privacy, the both of you. All we want to observe is the entertaining parts out in public, anyway."

"Okay, then," conceded Selina, glancing at where Xander was also nodding in approval.

This was followed by everyone saying goodbye in the kitchen and the three witches escorting Xander and Selina to the front door where the house's residents did a final farewell wave at the departing taxi. It wasn't until the door was closed that Mordred turned to where Cynthia was giggling to herself and severely inquire of the younger witch, "All right, what'd you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" indignantly huffed Cynthia in a quick change of mood.

Mildred and Mordred just turned their heads to wearily examine the other, then they returned their resigned attention back to where Cynthia was giggling again. It took a few more moments before she broke under their unblinking gazes.

Tossing her long, blonde locks back, Cynthia smirked, "Well, if you insist, I might've made sure Xander's collar can't ever be removed even when he turns into a human and it also has inscribed on it the words in capital letters SELINA'S GOOD DOGGY. Hey, all it'll take for him to cover that up is a couple of turtleneck sweaters!"


	5. Chapter 5

Lying on his stomach with his muzzle propped upon a set of crossed paws, Xander contemplated the possible consequences of his actions. Aside from being totally insane, there was the distinct likelihood of this German shepherd winding up with a mouth full of broken teeth. Plus, Selina was sure to yell at him.

Didn't matter. No Jim Croce fan could ever pass up the opportunity to do this, despite the rock singer/songwriter who'd died much too early in 1973 sternly warning against what Xander was planning for today in Metropolis' Middle Park.

_Swoosh!_

Swoosh? What da swoosh? Who be doin' the swoosh-?

Just then, someone landed lightly overhead onto the temporary stage floor above Xander's position where he was lurking among the platform's underpinnings, accompanied by the sudden loud cheers of the crowd beyond in front of the canvas skirt shielding the dog from anyone's sight. Well, anyone not having X-ray vision, but Xander doubted a just-arrived Superman would particularly care about a stray dog napping under the stage.

Taking a deep breath, Xander got up on all four feet and poked his muzzle through the slit where two ends of the canvas met on the opposite side from the crowd. Seeing nobody at the moment behind the stage, Xander squirmed completely out from under the platform, only to turn around in a half circle and look up at the backs of several people standing there a few feet higher than the dog.

Xander didn't pay any attention to the mayor about to hand Superman yet another award for saving the city from its latest attack by the villain of the month. Instead, the dog's monochromatic gaze was intently fixed upon a long, gray article of clothing invitingly dangling just a leaping length away-

Accepting the award, Superman felt an instant later the utterly unexpected sensation of an actual tug on his cape.

Watching how a large dog had just jumped upwards from behind the stage and grabbed with its teeth Superman's cape to then continue to hang from there while giving off playful growls and twisting from side to side like this animal was enjoying a mock tug-of-war, the park crowd went completely silent. Except, no more than a second afterwards, everyone witnessing the ridiculous scene quickly burst into a communal roar of mirth. Jimmy Olsen, who'd been glumly on hand to take pictures of another boring ceremony, was himself whooping with glee while snapping off numerous camera shots. This was Daily Planet front page stuff, for sure!

Even Superman was chuckling. Handing back the award to a guffawing mayor, the Man of Steel carefully reached behind and got hold of both the dog and his cape this canine still refused to let go. Speaking as sternly as he could manage in between his own laughter, Superman ordered the dog now cradled in his arms, "Down, boy! Didn't your owner teach you not to jump on people?"

Xander promptly stopped chomping onto the cape. Luckily, rather than being so hard that his fangs would've shattered on it, this Kryptonian fabric consisting of the baby blankets placed in Kal-El's rocket ship and rewoven by Ma Kent into Superman's costume including his cape was flexible enough that it merely gave way without any damage under Xander's bite. Acting exactly like the canine he was supposed to be, Xander next gave Superman a slobbering lick on the man's classical chin.

Even more hilarity was felt by the crowd witnessing this last, so much that some of them were and holding their ribs aching from all the entertainment they were having today. However…

Among all the delighted noise, a woman's furious shout cut through this like a knife slicing an apple in half with one quick slash: "_XANDER!_"

The dog he was holding produced a worried whimper, ears flattening out in equal anxiety. Looking down in surprise at this animal, Superman's attention was then caught by a young lady steamrollering her way through the crowd. Prudently deciding not to get in the way, a Smallville native bent over and put the dog on the stage floor at the same time the female newcomer stepped up onto the platform. Marching towards where what was apparently her dog was trying to inconspicuously slink off into the other direction, that woman dropped to her knees and seized hold of the dog's ears with both of her hands.

Using just enough force to wrench up his head to look the German shepherd right in the eye, the beautiful owner began to scold him in baby talk: "Mumsie-wumsie's doggie has been very, very naughty! Xander Cuddles should know better than that! Diddums even miss me a little when you ran off earlier after that stuck-up poodle? You keep acting like this, it's snip-snip-snip time at Doctor Morton's office!"

Almost as if he'd understood every word of this, the dog abruptly crossed his rear legs. Virtually every guy in the crowd felt like imitating the canine.

Even Superman. There were certain things common to the masculine gender throughout the entire universe. Trying not to do this in a high-pitched squeak, the Metropolis Marvel cleared his throat.

Getting back up onto her feet while taking hold with a firm grip her dog's collar, the woman sent a dazzling smile at both Superman and the mayor plus every other flunky there with the humans in the main as a result straightening their spines, brushing back what hair they had, and sucking in stomachs. A throaty coo then was uttered by her to no one in particular, "Thank you _so_ much! I'll be going now, me and Xander Cuddles!"

Sure enough, the woman then left the stage, dragging the dog after herself, all without ever revealing her name. She and this animal soon departed from sight by a side path taking them directly away from the crowd. As long as the unknown woman was in view, though, the majority of this throng wearing long pants watched with interest how her fashionably tight spring outfit stretched across this woman's fit rear. When she and her pet finally vanished among the park foliage, the ceremony started all over again, with the mayor once more presenting Superman with the city's award only this time a bit more absently.

For some reason, the hero of the day on the stage was also acting in a manner suggesting he was also thinking of something else. No, not that! Rather, Superman was trying to absorb what he'd just caught via his super-hearing in the direction of where that beautiful woman had gone.

Instead of someone's feminine voice speaking, a definitely indignant _male_ had complained, "Xander Cuddles?! And if you ever threaten me in public with neutering again, Selina, I'm gonna shed five pounds of fur in one go right onto your best little black dress!"

Ummm… Superman mentally went over his calculations again. No, it couldn't be. Mr. Mxyzptlk wouldn't pay another of his irritating visits from that imp's fifth dimension home for at least another two months, so there had to be some other explanation for this minor bout of weirdness today for Superman.

After all, without the possibility of actual magic, there was no such thing as a talking dog…

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Besides such rock standards as 'Time in a Bottle' and 'Bad, Bad Leroy Brown', Jim Croce penned in 1972 the refrain for his tune 'You Don't Mess Around With Jim':<p>

_You don't tug on Superman's cape  
>You don't spit into the wind<br>You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger  
>And you don't mess around with Jim<em>

All rights for the above belong to their proper owners.


	6. Chapter 6

Afterwards, Xander blamed it all on his new hormones.

Well, why not? If a 70-year-old Slayer who was proudly positive she had the cutest grandkids ever among all the Scoobies and the rest of the New Council nevertheless tried to use the PMS excuse for beating up an entire demon bar just because 'they looked at her funny', Xander thought that due to regaining his youth through a magic spell gave him an matching ridiculous justification for saying the absolutely wrong thing a couple of nights ago. And it'd been going so well between them earlier…

Before Xander transformed into a large dog for the rest of the night, he and Selina were then relaxing over a provided early dinner from the hotel restaurant in their Graycliff Hotel suite in the Bahamas, cheerfully talking about their day spent together diving in the clear Caribbean waters. It'd been nearly three decades before in his other life when Xander last had the opportunity to put on a scuba outfit and have fun like today. Prior to quitting this sport because of his age and increasing frailness, the Sunnydale native had gone diving around the world both for pleasure and on business while saving the world from the occasional underwater apocalypse.

Selina herself had dived for years for the same basic reasons as her companion, though in her case the 'business' she'd been occupied with often involved swimming through the sewers beneath art museums, castles with valuable historical artifacts, and diamond-filled jewelers as part of Catwoman's felonious plans. Between trading diving stories and trying to top each other, Selina soon abruptly stopped eating, fork frozen in mid-air above her plate while she stared in disbelief at a smirking Xander.

It'd taken just five words from him to throw Selina in such a tizzy: "The _Nuestra Señora de Atocha._"

Oh, she _definitely_ knew what this was. Every single thief and treasure hunter in the world, whenever they had trouble sleeping, instead of counting sheep while trying to doze off would otherwise imagine the most priceless lost treasures out there to be found one day by some lucky searcher. At the very top of anyone's list was a certain Spanish sailing ship stuffed to the brim with precious minerals and gems from South American mines which had been sunk by a hurricane in the Florida Keys in 1622.

The _Nuestra Señora de Atocha_ was partially salvaged back then until the primitive apparatus for cargo recovery used by the Spaniards failed to bring up anything more. Succeeding hurricanes and other storms soon covered the site, and the exact location was eventually forgotten. Despite, according to surviving copies of this specific ship's manifest, there were still missing close to 40 _tons_ of gold and silver remaining inside the sunken ship.

"It was found, wasn't it?" whispered an awed Selina, at last dropping her fork with a clatter on the dining table.

Xander's grin grew even wider. "Yep, in 1985 by a guy named Mel Fisher who spent sixteen years looking for it. Even after a court case which went all the way up to the U.S. Supreme Court, he kept most of the ship's loot, close to half a billion bucks."

Selina quivering in her chair appeared to be on the verge of an actual orgasm. She still managed to ask, "You wouldn't happen to know _exactly_ where the Atocha is, maybe?"

"Even better," Xander casually tossed off after taking a nerve-wracking sip of his coffee. "They're still diving and recovering stuff from the place, well into the 21st century. It takes some influence and an escort's definitely required, but I got the chance to dive there and look around. Really a high point in my life which didn't involve in any way demons, vampires, magic-"

"Never mind that!" Selina shrieked. "Where is it?!"

Enjoying how much she was nearly going insane in her desperation to know this, Xander eventually took pity upon Selina and recited, "24 degrees 31.5 minutes north latitude, 82 degrees 20 minutes west longitude. Happy now?"

Instead of verbally answering him, Selina launched her body up from this woman's chair and then in a graceful arc through the air over the table directly towards Xander. This flight ended when Selina grabbed and held onto the man in an ecstatic hug as his own chair toppled over, sending them crashing to the hotel floor rug. Next, Selina proceeded to thoroughly ravage Xander in a sexual fashion while they were both lying there.

* * *

><p>An hour or so later, a very relaxed Xander clad only in his thin tropical cotton bathrobe turned on the television set discreetly tucked away in a corner of the very expensive suite's sitting room. Physically changing the channels because tv remotes wouldn't be in wide use for a few more years after 1960, Xander's current good mood wasn't lessened the slightest by what was considered state-of-the-art electronics for a world two decades before his birth. He eventually found a news station and sat down on the couch facing the television.<p>

In between his occasional bemusement about what he was watching (there were still _cigarette_ commercials?) and the shock of actually hearing an announcement of a Massachusetts state senator's bid for the Democratic presidential candidacy (got to visit Dallas a few years from now), Xander still enjoyed listening to Selina gaily humming to herself behind him elsewhere in the suite's bedroom. In between the talking heads on the television, Xander also heard from back there the rustle of paper and a pen scratching onto sheets of these, all part of Selina at the bedroom desk putting down the initial notes of her strategy to turn them both into multi-millionaires.

At least in their hotel bed earlier he'd successfully persuaded Selina to privately offer the government a one-third cut of the treasure recovered from the _Nuestra Señora de Atocha._ She'd been quite willing to plunder the entire site and sell all the gold and silver from this on the black market without the authorities ever knowing about it, but Xander pointed out there was so much potential riches available that they could just pay off the IRS in full. Besides, no matter how hilarious it sounded, he could easily do without sharing a his-and-hers wanted poster with Selina.

It took close to a half-hour of Xander's 'special' tongue work to get her to agree to that. Blissfully soothed by how her entire lower body was tingling, Selina even went along with Xander proposing that sometime in the future they'd investigate to see if Mel Fisher existed in the DC universe. If so, a rather large check would be anonymously mailed to this startled treasure hunter. Fair was fair, Xander argued. The other guy had done all the hard parts in this Scooby's world, so he deserved some recompense even if that meant him never finding the Spanish ship here anytime in the future since it'd already be discovered by a pair of clandestine adventurers.

At that point, Selina was inspired enough to get out of their bed and look for a pen and paper to write down what she thought necessary to start things off in their search for the _Nuestra Señora de Atocha._ This was soon followed by Xander doing the same, except a loving caress of Selina's bathrobe-covered shoulder while she was at the bedroom desk produced only a distracted grunt, indicating she was busy for the moment. Accepting this, Xander headed for the television to watch something until they went to sleep together.

In fact, Xander felt his eyelids growing heavier as the news program ran into its final minutes. He abruptly shifted into full wakefulness at observing someone now presented on the tv screen that he'd never thought to see in real life who wasn't an actress best known for an alliterative comic book character. Staring in amazement how that genuine Amazon female dressed in a skin-tight colorful outfit and gliding through the air was built even better than Lynda Carter, Xander unthinkingly exclaimed out loud, "Damn, Skippy, but Wonder Woman's really got a helluva set of tits!"

From behind Xander, the noise of a woman's handwriting suddenly ceased.

From his position on the couch, Xander closed his eyes in weariness. He was a dead man, for sure. Going over in his head how to properly grovel his way out of this, Xander finally twisted around in his seat to look over the back part of the couch. This was done just in time for him to see how the bedroom door finished swinging closed silently, without even being slammed shut. Now, that proved to him exactly how mad Selina currently was and if he even _knocked_ hopefully on the door to avert his just-decreed exile, she wouldn't bother to answer. And if he still dared at all to try to enter the bedroom with its occupant of a furious cat burglar with serious martial arts training and more than capable of holding her own against Batman for a time, Alexander LaVelle Harris was going to be very, very sorry…

Glumly moving his body to lie flat on his back there upon the couch, Xander crossed his arms over his chest, glowered up at the ceiling, and tried to ignore how the television set was presently showing nothing but snow after signing off the program. It appeared to be good for nothing now except as a night light. Which figured. All he needed next was to discover in the subsequent couple of minutes after turning into Ace the Bat-Hound was that this German shepherd had just contracted a serious case of mange.

* * *

><p>A couple of days later, an extremely depressed Xander wearing only a damp bathing suit slouched himself prone on a chaise longue by the hotel pool. Ever since waking up late the next morning with an aching back on their suite couch, this man hadn't been able to find Selina. Entering with the same due care a bomb disposal expert would show dealing with a ticking blockbuster device, Xander found the bedroom totally empty but for a woman's clothes mostly still hanging in the closet and packed in the drawer. The French door leading to the room balcony had been open, but other than this, there was no sign of her.<p>

Uh, wait-

Glancing at the bed, Xander felt his heart lift slightly at seeing a folded-over sheet of paper lying atop one of the pillows there. Reaching out, Xander picked this up and unfolded it to read the curt words set down in an angry feminine hand: _Suite's paid for the rest of the week. Amuse yourself._

Instead, Xander spent the whole time since then searching throughout Nassau, the Bahamian capital, all without the slightest bit of luck. There weren't even any horrified police reports of someone working out their bad temper by stealing the entire country's gold reserves. Eventually, Xander went back to Graycliff Hotel and waited for Selina to show up there again. If she did, he was going to unreservedly tell her he was sorry.

"Mistah Harris! Mistah Alexandah Harris!"

Jolted out of his complete funk by that utterly unexpected declaration of his full name, Xander blinked at where a teenage skinny black kid dressed in a blue shirt and snow-white shorts plus an odd-looking flat cap with a bill was standing on the other side of the pool. Tentatively raising his hand, the kid caught sight of where Xander was doing that and bustled over there, pulling out from the leather pouch strapped diagonally across his chest a small envelope and offering this to a puzzled American.

After taking the envelope with both the hotel's name and his own typed on the front of this, Xander watched with equal bewilderment as the messenger kid scampered away with the same energy he'd shown in delivering a…telegram? Xander gawked at what he was holding, a honest-to-goodness Western Union telegram. For someone who'd only seen them in old movies, it was almost like receiving a pre-Civil War Pony Express message. He opened the envelope and extricated the small slip of paper inside.

In the usual terse style of these communications, Xander read: ACE BE AT AIRPORT 8 PM TONIGHT HANGAR 6 TO APOLOGIZE OR NOT STOP JULIE.

Xander let out a loud, whooshing sigh of relief. Both 'Ace' and 'Julie' meant the telegram had to be from nobody but Selina. Even if Bats back in Gotham somehow figured his missing German shepherd was in fact a magically transformed human and tracked Xander down, there was no possible way for this caped crusader to know in another dimension that Julie Newmar would become a legendary Catwoman on a campy television show dating from the mid-sixties. Except, of course, Xander blabbed about them all to a very amused lady, even when these actresses should've definitely known better (coughHalleBerrycough!).

So… She wanted him at the airport? To apologize? Sure! But… Xander frowned. Why there? Wasn't Selina coming back to the hotel? And why so late at night, just an hour before he'd be forced to change into a dog?

Sitting up on the chaise longue, Xander had to wince at some unwelcome guesses. From the sound of things, maybe they were going to have to leave in a real big hurry by plane with as few witnesses as possible. Come to think of it, Selina once mentioned she had her own pilot's license to cover all the bases if ever trapped by the police anywhere with no other means of escape except by air.

Okay, Xander nodded to himself. Make a casual trip over there right now, just to check things out at long range to know exactly where to go later on. Then come back here without mentioning to the hotel he'd soon be leaving, pack up their stuff, discreetly arrange for a rental car parked near the hotel, and sneak out for good a few hours after dark. A motor scooter would be even harder to see at night, but it'd be impossible for Xander to take along their suitcases with Selina's clothes crammed in there. He was already in enough trouble that this man wasn't going to risk mentioning to Selina he left behind her prized possessions, including all her shoes.

Once had been enough with Buffy. Even now after all his other injuries in his old body, being wished into another dimension, and magical transformations from dog to man and vice versa, Xander's left thumb still ached at random intervals.

* * *

><p>Leaving behind the yawning watchman napping in his hut who'd waved him through the open gate without bothering at all to open his shut eyes at the car passing by with its driver, Xander had to shake his head in disbelief. The lack of security was astonishing for someone from his time, but then it'd be at least another decade here before terrorists and drug smugglers started making people nervous. Besides, he was at the opposite end from the main Nassau airport with its terminal closed for the night. Out here were only the private hangars for housing personal aircraft, with those buildings undoubtedly locked up tight against casual thievery.<p>

Xander puttered in his rental to the furthest hangar of them all, pulling off the road running behind the hangars to park in the space between Hangar 6 and its nearby neighbor. He turned off the engine and lights, waiting in the car for his eyes to adjust to darkness. Half expecting Selina to join him at any second, Xander soon got out of the car when nothing of the sort happened.

Carefully closing the rental's door, Xander then eased his way towards the front of the hangar. He poked his head past the building corner, looking from side to side where concrete strips led ahead to the secondary runway built for smaller planes. Except, there wasn't any such aircraft in sight in the illumination cast by an attached lamp mounted directly over the hangar door.

Frowning, Xander glanced around at the deserted vicinity again. No plane, no Selina. Could she be inside the hangar? Was all this some sort of practical joke by her, making him track Catwoman down? He studied everything in view much more warily, all the paranoia a lifetime growing up in Sunnydale had given him telling Xander that there was something he was missing-

At the very dimmest edge of the pyramid of light produced by the hangar lamp, what looked like nothing else but a note was floating at around head level with the top portion of the note attached by a strip of Scotch tape to…something invisible.

A slack-jawed Xander lurched out from his hiding position against the hangar, out into the light. Wildly glancing around at every step, he continued heading towards at the note, right up to the point when this man walked directly into an unseeable object a few yards away from the note. Groaning with the unexpected agony running horizontally across his ribs, Xander stumbled back a few paces and rubbed at his chest. When the pain there died down a little, Xander held out his hands and cautiously inched forwards. He soon felt a metal edge, slightly curving, with a flat top and bottom, yet he still couldn't see any of it. Tracing with his fingertips what Xander soon realized to be the left wing of an extremely advanced jet, the man worked his way to where the note was attached. Making sure he wouldn't bash his head against anything hidden from view, Xander leaned forwards and squinted at what was written on the note barely discernible in the low light.

_If you're so impressed with the owner of this plane, enjoy your little chat with her. She'll be showing up sometime soon. Should you actually talk your way out of this, though, I'll consider your punishment over and done with, and we can get busy finding our treasure. Just remember in the future to keep your damn mouth shut about other women here, no matter who they are. I'm definitely not going to share you in any way._

_Kisses_

_S_

Resting his cheek against what he thought was the side of the aircraft's canopy, Xander muttered under his breath, "Just be glad you didn't meet me when I was sixteen, Selina. I was even worse back then. Hell, I wouldn't have known how to act around someone with the chutzpah to steal Wonder Woman's invisible plane, set me up to be caught red-handed with this, and hole up close by to watch everything after that simply for the sheer fun of it."

_Click._

That odd sound abruptly coming from behind Xander made him close his eyes in absolute resignation for a moment, before he opened them and turned around in a half circle while plastering a very sickly grin upon his visage.

Standing where she'd landed in her boot heels onto the concrete strip, Wonder Woman put her fists upon her hips and glared at that shamefaced male culprit about to receive in full his deserved chastisement. Right now, he'd better have a really good explanation as to why that idiot thought he could get away with helping himself to an Amazon princess's personal means of transportation!

Clearing his throat, Xander knew he'd have to surpass virtually all his previous fast-talking accomplishments in order to avoid being pummeled into unconsciousness and then taken into custody. On the other hand, this was nothing compared to one time conning the whole Cleveland Slayers House into believing Buffy's real first name was something else and at the celebratory party with the cake brought out getting them all to simultaneously sing 'Happy Birthday' ending with "…to you, dear Elizabeth!"

The look on the Buffster's face had been _glorious._

Brightening up at such a savored memory, Xander grinned at a suddenly taken-aback Wonder Woman and he said-

* * *

><p>Author's Note: The Graycliff Hotel at Nassau really exists, though around the time of this story it was a private residence in our dimension. Similarly, the <em>Nuestra Señora de Atocha<em> is a historical fact, including being famously discovered by Mel Fisher. Part of that sunken ship has yet to be found and salvaged by Fisher's heirs, with it thought to possess even more riches than what's already been recovered.


End file.
